Insurance Girls Tell All
by Azalea542
Summary: A nosy reporter interviews an aged Meryl and Milly about their relationships with legends Vash and Wolfwood.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: This story is based solely on the anime. Therefore, the canon of the manga is not taken into consideration. For example, Wolfwood is a Christian priest, not a Plant worshipper. Thank you for your understanding.

Insurance Girls Tell All

Introduction

_Melinda Baker: The project began when I heard they were still alive—Stun Gun Milly _

_and Derringer Meryl, the "Insurance Girls" of legend, companions of Vash the _

_Stampede. Well, they weren't "girls" anymore—they were old ladies of ninety years. In _

_our modern age of airplanes and color TV, those so-called "Old Frontier" days seem so _

_long ago. We think of all its citizens as having passed on to new frontiers in the afterlife. _

_And indeed, renowned names from that time, the already mentioned Vash the Stampede, _

_and his comrade, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, are a memory. I guess I just assumed that _

_Meryl and Milly were, too, when an overheard conversation let me in on the truth—they _

_were sharing a home in Inepril City._

_ The Insurance Girls hold a special place in my memory. As a child, I would often _

_play one or the other, while my brothers alternated the roles of Vash and Wolfwood. _

_We'd reenact old adventures of theirs, some real and some from TV and movies, or make _

_up new ones of our own. _

_ Now a lot has been written on Vash, including Emil Hector's book __Vash the _

_Stampede: Hero or Villain?__, published when Vash was still alive and still in print. It _

_cleared Vash's name of many of the crimes and catastrophes associated with him, so _

_much so that many people now thought him a saint, and even the government granted him _

_a pardon. He was able to live a relatively quiet and peaceful life. That book detailed a _

_lot of the specific adventures of Vash's career, especially the ones experienced with the _

_companionship of the Insurance Girls._

_ Well, although I revisit some of those adventures in my book, recounting them _

_from Meryl and Milly's points of view, I wanted more to focus on romance. These women _

_had loved Vash and Wolfwood, two of the most legendary men of the Old Frontier. Not _

_just been in love with them, but had that love returned to the fullest extent. I couldn't _

_imagine what that was like, so I intended to meet with Meryl and Milly and ask them _

_everything._

_ I drove my truck to Inepril, site of many of Vash's adventures, and pulled up in _

_front of the Insurance Girls' homestead, an old-style cabin with a front porch. As I _

_walked towards the steps, I passed by a black cat lying on the ground. "Nice kitty," I _

_said, reaching down towards it. It trotted away, telling me, "Meow meow meow" the _

_whole time._

_ "That's Neko Neko," someone informed me. I looked up to see a tall, elderly _

_woman on the porch. She was a little plump the way senior citizens sometimes get. Her _

_gray hair was worn in a bun, out of which strands of brittle hair had come loose. She _

_was wearing bifocal glasses, white slacks and a pastel green, collared sweatshirt with a _

_cartoonish picture of a puppy and a kitten cuddling. From her neck dangled an ivory _

_colored cross pendant, with silver thread winding around it. "That cat's not very _

_friendly."_

_ "How about you?" I asked._

_ "Oh, me? I'm friendly." She laughed._

_ "I'm looking for Milly and Meryl," I began to explain._

_ "I'm Milly."_

_ I put a foot up on the step. "Wow, it's such an honor to meet you!"_

_ She laughed, as though not understanding why it would be an honor._

_ "Does Meryl still live here?"_

_ "Yeah, she's in the house fixing dinner. Why don't you come in?"_

_ "But you don't even know who I am yet."_

_ "That's okay. If you're dangerous, we know how to handle you."_

_ Meryl was standing in front of the stove, and raised an eyebrow at me. She was _

_small, thin, and frail, the way some other senior citizens sometimes get. She had dyed _

_black, short hair. She was simply dressed in a maroon sweatshirt and sweatpants, such _

_as one exercising might wear, and these looked rather baggy on her slight frame. She _

_also wore glasses, these thick-framed._

_ I introduced myself, and told them about my proposed book. I told them I would_

_conduct both separate interviews, and also chat with the two of them together at _

_times. Plus I brought along a little serum—Truthgiver, both a memory enhancer _

_and a method for loosening the tongue! (I figured the ladies' memories weren't _

_as sharp as they used to be. Plus I I really did want to find out __**everything**__ about _

_their love affairs with Vash and Wolfwood!)_

_Melinda: Your men had mixed reputations—described as both heroic and ruthless. I _

_have in my hand a testimony of one Susan Porter, who was an orphan living outside of _

_Keybos over six decades ago. She says, "Nicholas D. Wolfwood was very kind to us at _

_first, but then he shot one of us down, right in front of the rest of us. It traumatized me _

_for life. I took me awhile to realize Bete wasn't really a kid at all, but a member of the _

_Gung-Ho Guns. But that didn't heal all my scars. And I was never able to forge a _

_friendship with a priest from that time onward."_

**Meryl: You came all the way here to read **_**that**_** to us? You should be careful; Milly **

**is a sensitive woman.**

Milly: Oh, it's okay, Meryl. Miss Baker, Nicholas was not proud of that incident, but his

intentions were not evil.

_Melinda: Believe me, _my_ intentions are not put down either of your men. I just want _

_your take on the story._

Milly: They did have two sides to them. More than two sides, actually. They were very

complicated. I've heard lots of lies—or maybe some partial lies—used to describe

Nicholas. They say he was violent, bloodthirsty, and murderous. But when I looked into

his eyes, I saw kindness. Any they say the eyes are the windows to the soul!

_Melinda: Just to play the devil's advocate, but could it have been you were seeing what _

_you wanted to see?_

Milly: Could be—but I noticed that about him and his eyes when we first met. And I

didn't fall in love with him right at that moment, so why would I be seeing what I wanted

to see then? I did end up seeing in his eyes things no on else ever saw. Hmm-mmm.

Feelings directed solely at me.

**Meryl: We saw our men at their heroic best, and we saw them when they hit rock **

**bottom.**

Milly: I think seeing them in such a pathetic state actually made us love them more.

**Meryl: Yeah, you're right. It wasn't long after seeing them at their worst that we, **

**well, **_**personally**_** experienced the best they had to give us.**

Milly: Hee hee. So to speak. It's been, what? A half a century for me—no, over sixty

years, and I can still feel Nicholas' hands on my skin as he—

**Meryl: Milly, shush! There'll be time to tell that part later!**

Milly: I can still see his naked body by the light of the moons. Sigh.

**Meryl: Milly!**

Milly: All right, I'll be good. Hm-mmm.

**Meryl: Sigh. Vash was so sweet—he'd cry every time we made love.**

Milly: I thought you said there'd be time for that later!

**Meryl: Oh, I guess so.**

_Melinda: Was Wolfwood really a priest? In one of the movies, he was portrayed as just _

_a gunslinger masquerading a priest._

Milly: Oh, he was a priest, all right. He worked for an orphanage. There's still an

orphanage there today. Nicholas was just very..odd..for a priest.

**Meryl: So, you admit it! He was a strange and unusual man!**

Milly: I've never denied that, Meryl! It's part of what made him so intriguing! Besides,

you could never pass off Vash as normal.

**Meryl: No, I guess not. Karen thought we were both nuts for hooking up with the **

**guys we did.**

_Melinda: Who's Karen?_

Milly: What happened to Karen anyway?

**Meryl: I heard she had three husbands and died a bitter woman.**

_Melinda: Who's Karen?_

**Meryl: Oh, just someone we used to work with back at Bernadelli Insurance.**

Milly: She's not very interesting. You're better off hearing me tell you about my

Nicholas.

**Meryl: I hope you're prepared, because she **_**loves**_** talking about him. She won't **

**know when to shut up.**

_Melinda: __**That's**__ what I'm hoping for._


	2. Chapter 2

Part one: Song of Solomon

Chapter one: Head on My Shoulder

Milly: Nicholas was the first man to notice me. It seems that way, anyway. I guess it's not true—like one time,

when Meryl and I had first set out to find Vash, some guys in a bar made lewd comments at us. But times like that

don't count.

I guess I looked all right, but I didn't have a gorgeous face that stopped men in their tracks. I was too tall to appeal

to most of them. Especially since my height made it hard to find feminine clothes my size—my mother didn't sew,

and goodness knows, with that many kids, she should have—so I took to wearing mostly men's clothing early on.

I don't know why, but Nicholas saw past that right from the start. That time on the bus, the day we first met, he put

me in a state of shock when he leaned against me and fell asleep. Most women would have thought he was getting

fresh—after my initial discomfort, I felt too flattered to care. As the bus continued on, I began thinking how

handsome he was. Why hadn't I noticed it right from the moment we met? Well, given I still hadn't known him for

a whole day, you could excuse me for taking a few hours to really notice.

Shortly thereafter, I must have fallen asleep myself, for the next thing I knew, I woke up to find him still resting on

my shoulder. That physical closeness..it was making me feel emotionally close, too. I knew already I was falling.

But would we ever even see each other again after today?

He woke, and looked at me tenderly, as though we had just made love. Then the last traces of sleep vanished, and

an expression of sheepishness replaced the sweetness. "Uh, how long have I been out?" he joked.

"I'm really not sure."

"I hope I didn't make your shoulder sore."

"It's fine," I said simply. It seemed like I should have said more, but I could not think of anything.

From her seat across the narrow aisle, Meryl shook her fist at Nicholas. "You're lucky! She should've

whacked you one!"

"Don't mind her!" Vash insisted, lowering Meryl's arm with his own, making her more irritable. "She's

just upset you stole her seat."

Meryl: We arrived in town, and Wolfwood and the three of us went our separate ways. Later, at Milly's and

my hotel room, I confronted her about the incident. "Proper young ladies do not let strange men sleep on

their shoulders!"

"**Oh, but he seemed nice!"**

"**You admitted he was a strange and unusual man!"**

"**Yeah, but, I…" I think she was ready to burst into song.**

"**You liked it, didn't you?" I demanded. **

"**Well, actually, yeah. I guess so."**

"**Don't!"**

"**But, Meryl, you can't tell me not to like something if it already happened and I already did like it," she **

**reasoned. "That's impossible!"**

**I stared at her incredulously for a moment. Then I held a hand to my forehead. "Oh, never mind!" Already, **

**he had more sway over her than I did—and I was supposed to be her leader. A warning bell went off in my **

**head—Wolfwood plus Milly equals trouble.**

_Melinda:_ _All the girls are crazy over the latest actor to play Wolfwood on screen. How do you think he compares to _

_the original?_

Milly: I prefer my Nicholas, of course! He was handsome, yet not perfectly so. There was a little bit of goofiness

to his looks, as if he were apologizing. Maybe saying something like "I know I'm hardly the ideal priest, but I'm

having fun." His black hair was shaggy—but, oh, how dramatic it looked blowing in the wind! There was a little

stubble on his chin. He was a sloppy dresser, seldom bothering to button his shirt all the way. But I must admit, I

enjoyed sneaking peeks at his chest.

I like a bit of that imperfection in a man's looks. Those who are perfectly gorgeous are a bit too, well, sweet, like

candy you get tired of after only a couple of bites.

_Melinda: (She handed me a green glass bottle of cologne, labeled Rarity.)_

Milly: Here, sniff this. Isn't it dreamy? This is what Nicholas always wore. I misplaced the original bottle. It

took me forever to find that scent again. It really is a Rarity! When I did find it, and I took a sniff, it felt so

nostalgic I cried.

That's something I miss about the old days. Every man wore cologne back then. And they smelled so

good! A whiff could get me giddy…

All us gals wore perfume, too. My favorite one to wear was Pure Snow. Meryl liked something called

Recollection, but she liked Pure Snow, too. Funny, I've never seen snow, but I imagine that's what it must smell

like!

Well, back to Nicholas. Nicholas—at the time, I always addressed him as "Mr. Wolfwood" or even "Mr. Priest"—

he was there for a couple more adventures we had—the kind we always seemed to have when Vash was around.

One night, before a big quick draw contest, I was playing cards with Vash and Nicholas. Being tipsy, I had stripped

my top half down to my camisole. I didn't get completely naked as Meryl seems to think. Besides, although

camisoles can be worn as underclothes, they are modest enough to sport as outerwear! My bra straps were peeking

through, but I don't know that that was such a big deal either. And I guess if you looked carefully, you could see the

pattern of my bra underneath the camisole's thin cloth. But I trust the two gentlemen would never have allowed me

go so far as Meryl thinks. Although both of them were rather drunk and a bit interested in a show. Meryl put a robe

on me, but I took it off again.

"Mister Priest," I declared.

"What?"

"You're a priest."

He nodded slowly, wondering what I was getting at. "Yeah?"

"Did you take any vows?"

"Well, what kind do you mean?"

"I mean, like vows to celibacy."

He shook his head. "No, in my church, priests can get married if they want."

I laughed, a bit too heartily. "That's good."

"There are rules about abstinence, though," he clarified.

"Well, I think it's good to abstain," I declared, slamming my hand down on the table. "From alcohol! Um, and the

other thing, too."

"From alcohol?" he wondered, incredulous.

"Oh, yeah, that's right, I'm drunk!" I cried, stretching my arms up over my head and laughing stupidly. The chair

nearly tilted over.

"Hey, whoa there, honey!" Nicholas exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his seat to make sure I didn't fall

over. But I was okay. He settled back down his chair. "Remind me never to get you drunk again."

Vash spoke up, his voice slurred. "Priests shouldn't get girls or infamous legends such as myself drunk."

Nicholas grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, what was I thinking? Bad priest."

Meryl: You've all heard of the famous incident after the quick draw contest—where dozens of bad guys

were going to jump Vash and Wolfwood, but Wolfwood shot them all down in what had to be called, despite

it being in self defense, a rampage. He didn't kill anyone, mind you, which makes me wonder why he ever

had to kill anyone at all, if he was at good as Vash at sharpshooting. He could have just disarmed every bad

guy that he met.

Milly: I think we were all shocked at Nicholas' taking everyone down, but no one died, you know. And part of me

was just in awe. Whether what he did was good or bad, this was one incredible man.

Meryl: To be honest, there were times I thought Wolfwood was no less than a madman.

Milly: Nicholas took off after the tournament, and Vash, Meryl, and I ended up joining a caravan on the way to

Demislad. In the caravan trailer, stopped briefly before reaching its destination, I sighed. "Thinking about Mr.

Wolfwood?" Meryl asked.

I was startled. "How did you know?"

She smiled. "I think you like him."

"Well, of course, I like him! Why, don't you like him?"

"Oh, I don't really mean like. I mean love."

"Do I love Mr. Wolfwood? Why, I don't know!"

"Maybe you just have a crush on him."

"I do get to feeling giddy when he's near," I admitted. I looked around, making sure Vash wasn't here, then I turned

back to her. "Meryl, do you love Mr. Vash?"

She sat bolt upright. "What, him? You've got to be kidding! The man is a moron!"

"You do always get flustered when he's near."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just an observation."

"I don't love him. I despise him."

I looked at her with pure disbelief.

"Okay, maybe despise is too strong a word..Can we talk about something else now?"

Milly: When I woke up the next morning, after a sweet dream about Nicholas, I knew I really was in love. But

why would any man fall in love with _me_?

I ran into him again at the caravan canteen. Oh, how my heart beat with excitement! I hardly even noticed

when he snapped at me for moving his chess pieces. We had such an adventure together, helping two young lovers

escape persecution.

Then Nicholas went away again. I wanted to see him some more, but I did not feel all that sad. At least,

that's what I told myself. After all, we had not started anything more than a friendship, officially speaking. Besides,

I knew in my heart we'd hear from him again.

Actually, to tell the truth, I missed him something terrible.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter two: Catastrophe after Catastrophe

_Melinda: The Fifth Moon. Augusta. The effects were felt all over this world. And who was the finger of blame _

_pointed at? Vash the Stampede. And he would indeed admit to these acts of destruction, though his biographer, and _

_Meryl and Milly, too, of course, say he wasn't to blame. It was the work of Legato Bluesummers, manipulating _

_Vash's "Angel Arm". I still am not sure exactly what an Angel Arm is, but I do know it can unleash deadly force, _

_like the nuclear bombs of the Old World, destroying entire cities in moments._

_The Insurance Girls weren't with Vash when it happened, but they sensed the electricity in the air. They knew _

_something catastrophic would soon happen. Meryl was in anguish worrying about Vash—the man she claimed to _

_hate. She told me about how desperate she was to get to Vash, how Milly had to drag her away, literally kicking _

_and screaming. But finally, the dust began to settle on Augusta, and the two office ladies returned to the site…_

**Meryl: Standing in the ruins of a once proud city, Milly suddenly exclaimed, "It's him!"**

**My heart skipped a beat as I looked up. I would forgive him; he would tell me what happened and I would **

**forgive him. Oh, it wasn't **_**my **_**him. It was **_**her**_** him. Wolfwood, picking through the rubble. But what was he **

**doing here?**

**He saw us—well, saw Milly mostly, and called out, "Honey!" She clambered over fallen bricks to reach him, **

**and they hugged. I'm not sure either of them realized he blurted out "honey" instead of her name. Milly had **

**for the moment forgotten about catastrophe and was smiling at him, her eyes shining as brightly as the North **

**Stars. All this damage, all those people rendered homeless, and all she could see…I sighed. Would I be any **

**different if I spotted Vash? Seeing them embrace made me ache.**

**Wolfwood and we two compared notes, but I don't think he was telling us everything. He vowed to make it **

**his mission to find Vash. We gave him our office card to contact us or Bernadelli if he did, but I don't think **

**he even intended to let us know.**

**I was devastated when Bernadelli sent us back to the main office in December City. We were no longer to **

**accompany Vash. I guess you could say my heart was broken. I knew I would miss him.**

**Those days back at the office were spent on edge, waiting for news from or about Vash. It was a combination **

**of both not being able to forget and refusing to let go that kept me in a state of waiting. Karen would needle **

**me mercilessly, but I didn't care.**

**I'm ashamed to say that my friendship with Milly reverted to a more casual one, though I spoke with her **

**every workday and some weekends. She was sharing a flat with a sister or two, and I lived alone in an **

**apartment of my own. I used to like living alone. Now it was more like living lonely.**

**Then we found out Vash was on the roam again. Thankfully, Bernadelli reversed its hands off policy, and **

**teamed up Milly and I again. Soon, we boarded a sand steamer and were on our way to New Oregon. **

_Melinda: To make it short, the steamer got hijacked. Vash prevented a man from killing in revenge, but got _

_multiple bruises to the face when the man repeatedly hit him. Don't ask how these two events are related—it's too _

_complicated! Meryl and Milly whisked Vash to the outskirts of town…_

**Meryl: I was leading Vash away from the city when Milly ran ahead of me, pouncing on Wolfwood, whom **

**we had not seen since Augusta. "Whee!"**

"**Umphh!" Wolfwood grunted, falling to the ground. He could have injured himself on the rocky terrain. **

"**Say, will you look where you're going?" he shouted angrily.**

"**Oh, I'm sorry," Milly squeaked, her hands folded together pensively.**

**Wolfwood smiled, and held up an arm so Milly could help him to his feet. "Ah, forget it. I can't stay mad at **

**someone like you. Good to see ya, honey."**

"**You found Vash and didn't tell us," I scolded, as the priest dusted himself off.**

"**Hey, it hasn't been that long since I found him," he defended.**

"**Meryl," Vash broke in.**

**I turned my head. "Huh?"**

"**I wanted to lay low." He sat down, staring off moodily over the town.**

**Wolfwood scolded Vash, then made the pretense of leaving. As I sat down next to Vash, Milly also made **

**herself scarce.**

"**Long time, no see," Vash said to me flatly.**

"**Yeah," I said nervously. He didn't appear happy about the reunion, much to my disappointment. We sat **

**together, gazing down at the town of New Oregon. He was so sullen and brooding.**

"**You should be happy," I said finally. "No one was killed. You won."**

"**I must look like hell," he remarked.**

"**Is **_**that**_** what you're worried about?" My mind flashed back to him shirtless, his multitude of scars lay bare, **

**saying to Milly and I, "It's not exactly something I like girls to see. I think many of them would run away." **

**Was he embarrassed that we had seen him with his face swollen and bruised?**

"**I guess I'm just sore about having my face used as a punching bag." He winced. "Sore in more ways than **

**one. Though I suppose I really can't blame that guy, after his daughter was killed in such a terrible manner. **

**I can only imagine how that feels." Sounding surprised at himself, he added, "I've never had any children of **

**my own."**

"**Do you want to?"**

"**I don't know that that's a good idea."**

**I looked at him curiously.**

"**You already know the reason why," he told me, answering my question before it was asked. Then he turned **

**it around on me. "Do you want children? Someday?"**

"**I can take it or leave it," I replied. I was staring ahead, but I could feel his eyes studying me. "If my future **

**husband wants one, I guess I'll give him one, and see how that works out before having any more."**

"**I think you'd make a great mother!" he declared.**

**I turned in his direction. "Why's that?"**

**He smiled impishly. "Because you're always bossing me around!"**

"**Oh, I oughtta smack you one!" I snapped, but I was glad to see him joking and smiling. "But you've had **

**enough abuse for one day, so I'll skip it."**

"**Go on and hit me," he encouraged. "One more won't hurt." It could have been a jest, but I could see he had **

**returned to being sullen.**

"**Vash—you broke the cycle of violence between two families," I told him. "Maybe now their feud will end."**

"**It'd be nice to think so, wouldn't it?" Vash returned in a soft, nearly timid tone. When he wasn't bellowing **

**about something, his voice was so kind and gentle, so easy on my ears. I had missed that voice so much.**

_Melinda: Vash and Wolfwood's next adventure (sans the Insurance Girls) was aboard the last remaining Project _

_Seeds spaceship, still flying in the atmosphere. Although both men tried valiantly to save the ship, the Gung-Ho _

_Guns prevailed and the ship plummeted from the sky. The crashing ship was like nothing the office ladies had ever _

_seen before. Blocking out the sky, it was frightening. Milly and Meryl just wanted to hide under a bed like a couple _

_of cats. But the girls knew they would find Vash, and maybe even Wolfwood, at the crash site. What they didn't _

_know was that they would find a bunch of newly homeless—and clueless—"settlers"._

Milly: I saw Nicholas lying in the sand, and at first I thought it was strange for him to relax, then I realized he was

hurt. I ran up to him and fell into a kneeling position beside him. "Mr. Wolfwood!"

He smiled. "Ah, my angel of mercy."

"Can you get up?"

"I don't think I should."

"Oh!" I said solemnly. "Back injury." I glanced down and, seeing his bloody leg, winced.

"That's nothing," he assured me.

His back injury ended up being only temporary—it would clear up in a couple of days. The leg wound was cleaned

and bandaged, and it caused no long term harm, either. Vash wasn't seriously wounded, either, except emotionally.

A young man named Brad had died taking bullets for him.

Residents of New Oregon intermingled with the former spaceship dwellers. Even though they had just been hit by

Typhoon Jacqueline, they were convinced to help the reluctant newcomers. The two parties could help each other,

actually.

A camp was set up, and one evening, the four of us were sitting around one of many fires. A young woman named

Jessica, who looked more like a child, also joined in. From what I gathered, she was either Brad's sweetie, or

imagined she was Vash's girlfriend. Meryl would have given her the cold shoulder, but she realized this was no

time for jealousy.

I shivered—it was a cold night. Nicholas placed a blanket around my shoulders, then extended it to fit over his as

well, wrapping the cloth around us. "Yeah, you're my angel of mercy, aren't you?"

I giggled as he put his hand on my waist to pull me closer. Meryl looked up. "It's nothing," I explained. She

couldn't see—for all she knew, he was behaving lewdly under the covers, but I didn't think he was.

Jessica looked wistful. Vash just looked miserable.

The air was solemn, but I still relished the nearness of Nicholas' body, and felt aglow with love. It's funny, but I

still wasn't sure how he felt. I guess it's like that with love—no matter how obvious the signs, you don't know how

your darling feels until he says those three big words.

Being with him like that was wonderful, despite the tragedy of the surroundings. Oh, he had to be the most

incredible man on the planet! Well, Meryl insists that that title belongs to Vash, and Vash the Stampede is,

admittedly, the most legendary man on the planet. But though I once thought I was developing a crush on Vash,

when Nicholas came along, my heart went to him instead.

Nicholas was handsome, he was heroic, he was big-hearted, he was holy. Although he had some habits peculiar to a

priest! He sure was different from the reverend back in my home town!

I finally asked him about it, the night before we drove into Keybos. We picked a cave to spend the night. While

Vash and Meryl were preparing the inside, I walked outside to where Nicholas was taking a cigarette break. "Are

you staying with us this time, Mr. Wolfwood?"

"I may tag along a little while longer."

"I don't like it when you go away," I said, on one hand, hoping my romantic feelings showed through, on the other

hand, hoping he thought I was just talking to him friend to friend.

"I have work to do, you know that."

"You could collect money for the orphanage with us. Mr. Vash doesn't have a job to speak of, and Meryl and I—all

we do is follow him around from town to town. And that's what you do—go from town to town. And besides, Mr.

Vash needs a buddy."

Nicholas stared at the ground, kicking a pebble. "Vash isn't wandering aimlessly. He has his own problems he has

to take care of."

"Well, you always have a place with us, you know."

"Did Vash and Meryl tell you you could say that?"

"Well, no, but I'm sure—"

"Never mind. It's good to know that regardless." He put the cigarette back to his mouth.

"Why do you do that?"

He pulled the cigarette from his lips. "What? Why do I smoke if I'm a priest?" he asked knowingly.

"Yeah, I was wondering why you drink, too, but I drink sometimes, so I guess it doesn't matter."

He explained, "The way I see it, Milly, being a Christian's not about obeying every verse with total strictness. It's

doing something to make the world a better place, and relying on Christ to cover your sins."

I smiled. "Yeah."

He continued, "Vash isn't a preacher, but he's probably holier than me. But the problem with Vash is he's too

idealistic."

"What do you mean, Mr. Wolfwood?"

"He thinks there's always an alternative to fatal force. The problem is, there's a lot of people on this planet who

aren't about to talk things out peacefully. Gunfire is the only law they understand. I'm not saying I like it, but that's

just the way it is."

"In this day and age," I began slowly, trying to recap what he said. "A priest has to be a warrior."

He grinned at me, and I felt my heart beat faster. "A warrior, hey? I like that. Ha—Nicholas D. Wolfwood, priest

and warrior."

"Onward, Christian soldier!" I shouted. Then, quieting down, I asked again, "So why do you smoke?"

"Ahh—at first, it was to rebel against the man who raised me. But I got hooked on it. Besides, gives me something

to do on my long treks through the desert."

"I'm not judging you," I insisted. "My father and two of my brothers smoke, so I'm used to—" I stopped. Used to

kissing men who smoke, is what I had wanted to say. "Used to it," I finished instead, rather lamely.

He looked at me curiously, then asked, "So, where's it say in the Bible not to smoke?"

"Well, it's just not a healthy habit."

"True—but it also acts as a sexual suppressant."

"It does?"

"Yeah. So every priest should probably smoke—in order to keep his chastity."

I laughed. "You're funny."

"You think I'm kidding?" he asked, one side of his mouth curling up slightly. "And about swearing—all it says is

don't take God's name in vain. That means so-called bad words without religious connotation are fair game. And it

seems to me it's okay to drink as long as you don't become a drunkard." He turned the spotlight around on me.

"Do you think priests should be celibate?" he asked bluntly.

"Well, I think there's certain rules—"

"I mean get married. I'm not talking about fooling around."

"Oh! No, I don't see why they should be denied love..unless that's what they want. And besides, people who are

denied a way to, um…" I tried to think of the phrasing. "…Let it out end up doing crazy things. Like molesting

boys. Not that you would ever do that," I added hurriedly.

"I would never hurt a child," he said solemnly, and despite what would happen in the near future, I am sure he meant

that.

"I know. You're a very intriguing man, Mr. Wolfwood. I've never met anyone quite like you. You're even

more..interesting..than Vash."

He gazed at me and smiled. I smiled back, holding his stare for a second or two. And I think, at that moment,

although we said nothing, that both of us knew how the other felt, that we were in love. Deep down anyway—on

the surface, we were still unsure that our love could be returned.

Before we could say another word, Meryl told us supper was ready.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter three: Alternative Conversation

**Meryl: At and around Keybos, there was quite an adventure. Plucky orphans. Angry townspeople.**

**And ravenous giant worms. Vash figured out one kid named Bete was behind it, and disabled the**

**apparatus he used to control the worms. On the tall building's roof top, as Vash talked to Bete—or**

**Zazie the Beast, as he preferred to be called—I felt hope that even the darkest souls could find**

**redemption. Then, before Zazie could decide to surrender or not, he was gunned down.**

Milly: As Zazie fell, I suddenly realized I hadn't seen Nicholas around. He wasn't the one who shot

Zazie, was he? _Please don't be Mr. Wolfwood, please don't be Mr. Wolfwood_, I thought desperately. We

all looked over—there he was, his cross gun smoking.

Vash marched over to where he was. "Why, Wolfwood?" he snarled. I have to admit, I wanted to know

why myself.

It seemed so unreal. He had always loved children, and acted as their guardian and protector. I could give

countless examples, many from earlier that very day. Now he had killed one and traumatized the rest. He

must have had some reason.

Some reason Vash would never understand.

I don't like confrontations and arguments. I don't like being part of one. I don't like even being witness to

one—I get the same knife-in-heart tingle I do as if I was participating. But I can't turn away—my ears are

somehow fascinated by hearing the others argue. Such as Vash and Nicholas. They really tore into each

other.

I still couldn't believe it had happened. I wanted to go back in time to not long ago when the four of us—

Nicholas and I, and Vash and Meryl—had been cruising in a car, Nicholas and I joking with each other,

and Vash and Meryl quietly enjoying each other's company in the back. We had never been more a quartet

than that moment, never more like family. In my heart, that's how we'll always stay.

Nicholas walked away, quietly, fallen from grace and no doubt fearing that if he didn't leave our gang, he

would be thrown out. His eyes—I will never forget his eyes—he refused to lock them with mine, seeing

me and quickly looking away, ashamed. At that moment, his eyes held no rage, no bloodlust, no

indignation—just sorrow. And despair.

My heart ached. I felt no anger against him. I just felt sorry for him.

I looked for Nicholas before we left town. Some guy said he had sold him a used motorcycle, and I knew

he had left town without us.

The ride to the next town was, for the most part, in unbearable silence. Vash, his sunglasses on, drove, and

Meryl sat up front with him. I lay in the back, sighing a lot.

"You shouldn't worry about him," Meryl advised me after one particularly long and loud sigh. "He knows

how to look out for himself," she said with traces of bitterness. "He always has."

"I wish you wouldn't—" I began.

"What? Put him down? Milly, it's not like he's innocent until proven guilty. We all saw what he did.

And don't forget, not only did he gun down a kid, he hit Vash, in case you've forgotten!"

"Meryl.." Vash interrupted gently.

"Yes, Vash?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," he explained quietly.

"But you're not—"

"I don't want to _hear_ about it right now," Vash rephrased.

"All right," Meryl agreed meekly, and closed her mouth.

The silence was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

**Meryl: The town was silent except for the wind. Vash was certain that all of the former residents—**

**every man, woman, child—apparently, even every pet—was now dead. The author of the crime,**

**Knives, had left his bloody signature in the center of town on a monument. In helpless anguish, all**

**Vash could do was shoot at the slab, as though killing Knives in effigy.**

**I did not know what to do. I had never seen such a desperate grief. Here was a man I had seen many**

**sides of—goofy and idiotic, and self-assured and determined. Now he was hurting, in deeper pain**

**than I could imagine. I wanted to comfort him, but how? How could I ease that great a pain even a**

**little?**

**Warily, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Vash, what can I do?" I asked timidly. "How can I help?"**

**For a second, I thought I saw a mischievous gleam in his eyes, but it faded before I even had a chance**

**to ascertain it was there. Vash gestured at the name on the rock. "All this—it's** **his fault. Even**

**yesterday—that wasn't Wolfwood's fault. Everything goes back to Knives."**

**"But how can I—?"**

**"Stay back when I tell you to," he replied angrily. "Don't follow when I tell you not to."**

**"But I'm afraid I can't do that—it's my job." It seemed to me we had had this conversation before.**

**"Yeah, well, I'm sure your job description never included getting killed to save people a few dollars**

**on insurance premiums."**

**I could have snapped at him for trying to order me around, but I didn't have the heart. I just sighed.**

**"Just…look, just go back to Milly right now," he said sullenly. "Thanks for the help, but I'd rather be**

**alone, all right?"**

**I decided not to get offended. Reluctantly, I nodded and backed away. _This is why I'm so scared to _**

**_console people when they're in moods like this,_ I thought.**

Milly: In the house Meryl and I had adopted, the electricity was still running, the plumbing still

functioning—indeed, it was like that all over town, as if the people were coming back any time now. We

found a fully stocked kitchen and pantry, and set about making sandwiches.

I was thinking of Nicholas all the while. I felt shame now for my love of a man who had done such a deed

as killing a kid. But the other part of me rationalized his act. I had to talk to him, get him to tell me what

he was feeling. I steeled my heart—I was determined to love him no matter what.

Meryl may not have made the sandwiches with Nicholas in mind, but when she left to check on Vash, I

decided they were going to him. I could just hear what Meryl would have to say: "I hope you're not going

to see Mr. Wolfwood."

I stuck my chin up in the air, and said resolutely to myself, "Regardless of what he did, he still needs to

eat." I left a note on the table. "I may be awhile," I told her in it. "He may need to talk."

Heading over, I felt anxious. What would his mood be? Still, in a way, I suppose I was blissfully ignorant,

not knowing the fate that would await him tomorrow. Nor knowing what the two of us would do that night.

My life would be forever changed.

But I had to see him. He had run away, ashamed. He needed somebody, someone who wouldn't judge, to

draw him out of his shell and bring him back into society. Show him he still had a home he could return to.

Or else he would just keep on running.

Nicholas was sullen; he was angry—but when I begged him to eat the sandwiches, he shyly asked me to

dine with him. "I would be more than happy to stay and eat with you, Mr. Wolfwood," I agreed, pulling up

a chair near the bed he was sitting on.

"Please—call me Nicholas."

"Okay, Mr. Wolfwood," I said hesitantly.

"We've been friends long enough. I want to hear you call me Nicholas." He was desperately

insistent.

"Nicholas," I repeated, and giggled nervously.

He smiled with genuine gratefulness. "Now doesn't that sound nicer than Mr. Wolfwood?"

I nodded, and took a sandwich in my hand. "Nicholas is a beautiful name."

"Milly," he said. "Is that short for Millicent?"

"Yeah," I replied, blushing. "But I don't like that name. It sounds snooty..well, to me anyway."

"C'mon, it's pretty!"

"I suppose. It sounds like the name of some rich girl." This came out sounding rather garbled, for my

mouth was full at the time. Bad-mannered me!

"But you're not a rich girl."

"No. My family..we weren't dirt poor, but with so many children, money was spread thin

sometimes."

We ate in silence a moment, then Nicholas asked me, "What did you do with the orphans?"

"We left them in the care of the townspeople," I answered. "There wasn't much else we could do. They

promised to take care of them."

"I'd say send them to my orphanage, but I doubt any of those kids trusts me now."

"Mister, er, Nicholas, who takes care of the orphanage when you're away? You've been gone an awfully

long time."

"An elderly couple from the church, and their daughter. Grown daughter. You're right, I have been gone

an awful long time."

"I'd like to see this place."

"Ah, you would? I'd be glad to have you come along."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter four: Confessions

I looked around the dwelling Nicholas had chosen to camp out in. It was small. The

bedroom/living area was pretty basic—no special decorative touches. I wandered into an even smaller

bathroom, and then into another bedroom, which looked like it had been converted from storage space.

This one at least had some feminine touches, like pink paint on one wall, and floral wallpaper on another. I

opened a wooden wardrobe and pulled out a dress. It was light green with dark green velvet shoulders.

Holding it up in front of me, I noticed to my amazement that it was my length. Closing the door, I tried it

on, then ran out to Nicholas. "Look what I found!" I squealed.

His eyes lit up. "You look very pretty. That color's good on you."

I shyly looked away, then ran back into the female's bedroom. I changed back into my clothes, well, minus

my duster, shoes, and tie, but checked out more of her attire to see if it was my size.

"You ought to take some of them with you," Nicholas suggested, when I returned to the front room.

"Oh, I couldn't do that!"

"It's not stealing, Milly," he said, perhaps taking my cue and kicking off his own footwear.

"Unfortunately, none of these people are ever coming back."

"I'm still not sure I feel right about it." Still, I went back to her room, checking out a chest of drawers. It

amused me to find several pair of pajamas the same cut as my own.

I showed one pair to Nicholas. "I think I'll keep these."

He smiled. "All those pretty dresses, and you want to keep a pair of pajamas just like the ones you already

have."

"Well, she has more than one pair," I rationalized. "She won't miss them if she comes back."

"Milly, she's not—"

"Please, Mr. Wolfwood. I just like to imagine she would, even if she won't, 'k?"

"Okay, Milly, I understand."

"I wonder if she was very much like me, and what became of her." I put the pajamas on the window shelf,

then I sat down facing Nicholas. He had one of his pistols in his hand. I didn't know why. He must have

gotten it out while I was exploring the wardrobe.

"Vash must think I'm bloodthirsty," he said carefully. "But I don't kill for thrills. It may seem I'm a bit,

well, gung-ho, but I've always tried to act with justice. So, Milly, do you think I was wrong?"

I was startled by his directness. "I already said—"

"No, I want to know what you really think."

"I don't think you're a murderer," I said carefully, sweeping my bangs out of my eyes. "He did threaten us

with his guns."

"You didn't fully answer my question." His eyes bore into me. I returned his stare and he looked away.

"I wish you had waited a second longer," I mumbled.

"That's what I thought." Suddenly, he pointed his gun at his skull.

"Don't do that!" I cried.

He remained silent, but did not pull the trigger. His hand was trembling.

"You're bluffing," I guessed, trying to sound sure of myself. "Like that time with Julius and Moore in

Demislad."

"What do I have to bluff about? In one moment, I've ruined my entire life."

"No, you have—"

"No kid's ever gonna trust me again."

"How would they know?"

"They'll find out. Believe me, they'll find out. Word'll spread from one town to the next. I'll be an ogre.

I'll never be able to work in an orphanage again."

"I told them why," I blurted. "When the children asked why, I reminded them that Bete had been ready to

shoot Mr. Vash and Meryl."

"I've lost them, too," he mourned, still refusing to lower the gun. "You're the only friend I have left. They

hate me, don't they?"

"They don't hate you!" I insisted. To be truthful, I added, "Meryl's mad right now, but she doesn't hold on

to grudges forever. Mr. Vash, well, he's more sad than anything."

"Yeah, I saw him today. We didn't say anything. He just looked at me like some dog." He lowered the

gun for a second, but that just gave me false hope. He raised it again, testing how sticking it down his

throat would work.

"Isn't suicide a sin in your church?" I demanded. "It sure is in mine!"

He took the gun from his mouth and put it back to his skull. "Yeah, it is. But look at me. My very

existence is blasphemy to the church. And yesterday, dragging my cross as I left the scene of the crime—I

probably turned all those kids off Christ for life!"

"But it wasn't a crime," I argued. "Most courts in this land would excuse you as having done it in defense

of your friends."

"Yeah, well, my friends took offense at that. I should've waited. Waited just a second longer to see what

that kid was going to do."

"By then, it may have been too late," I reasoned.

He sighed.

"Please put the gun down, Nich-Nicholas."

"Are you _that _sure things'll get better?"

"My big sister taught me when you hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up."

He lowered the gun to his lap. Gently, I pried it out of his hand, and put it on the window ledge.

He told me of his past, how he was orphaned and left with an uncle who abused him—verbally and

physically, even sexually at times—he wasn't raped in the sense of being penetrated, but he was handled in

places he shouldn't have been. Who could have blamed young Nick for killing his guardian? I told him

this, too, was self defense.

Then he told me of his mentor, Chapel the Evergreen, who raised him to be a marksman and priest, in that

order. "He deserves to be called a man of God even less than me," Nicholas remarked. "He taught me to

preach the Word of God, but he also taught me to shoot first, ask questions later. All in the name of

frontier justice. You remember reading in the Bible about the Pharisees?"

I nodded.

"Well, he's like that. Very holy on the outside—inside..that's another story. You know, Christ came down

harder on the Pharisees than any other group of people. That's why I try to be open about my vices . Call

me what you will, at least I'm not a hypocrite."

"Did you get _any_ love growing up?"

He shrugged. "Not much."

"Yet somehow, in spite of all this—"

"I became all mixed up."

"No. In spite of how you were raised, you ended up with a good heart. That's pretty amazing."

He chose to ignore my compliment; at least, he seemed to. Instead, he continued, "I found some love at the

orphanage. But sometimes it's best not to get too personal. There was this one little girl, Ramona. She

was eight years old. Very sweet. But she got sick and there was nothing I could do to help her. I

remember, when she knew death was moments away, she asked me to hold her until..until she passed

through to the other side. I never get over that. She lost her parents, and then she herself died."

"But she's in Paradise, right? And hopefully with her parents."

"Yeah, you can look at death that way," Nicholas said thoughtfully. "But somehow, it's still tragic. I may

be there, too, sooner than you think."

"What do you mean?" I demanded, alarmed.

"The Gung-Ho Guns—"

"They're after you?"

"Milly…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I am one."

I gasped.

"Chapel joined them a long time ago. They lured him in by promising they would purge the world of evil

and make a fresh start. I tried to stay away from them as much as I could, but now they've got the

orphanage in a vise." His speech sounded like sobbing. "I've tried to throw a wrench in their plans every

opportunity I've had, but..there's only so much I can do."

"What are they making you do?"

He sniffed, and then continued with false calm. "They want me to bring Vash to their leader. Just to talk,

they said. I should have known better than to believe that. Chapel just told me this morning to kill Vash."

"You won't do that?" I asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "I can't. But I can't refuse, either. Anyone who goes against Legato's will dies, and

dies horribly. Zazie was a Gung-Ho Gun. That's why I shot him. I knew it was his mission to kill Vash.

Unless…" He drew in a breath. "Unless you and Vash and Meryl talked him out of it. Maybe he wasn't

evil. Maybe he was caught in a vise, just like me." He looked heavenward. "Oh, God, what have I done?"

"He may have shot Mr. Vash quicker than any of us could have reacted," I offered.

"No, Milly. I should've waited a second longer."

"But then like you said, he may have been killed anyway."

"That's a moot point."

"Well…" I thought hard. "You know, just because Mr. Vash says something doesn't mean you have to

believe it. And follow it. He's not Jesus, you know."

Nicholas smiled. "Not unless Jesus got stoned drunk at the wedding at Cana."

"Or played peeping Tom with Mary Magdalene."

Nicholas snorted. "Yeah, Vash is just a flawed being like the rest of us." He sighed. "But he's still more

like Christ than I'll ever be."

"You're a good man, Mist—" I caught myself. "—Nicholas." Again, I was amazed that he had turned out

as good as he had, with bad men trying to tempt him from youth. Essentially, it was because he was a free

spirit. The Gung-Ho Guns tried to turn him into a cold-blooded murderer; the priests tried to turn him into

a polished saint. In the end, he learned from both of their styles, combining things in his own way.

He smiled sadly. "You're very sweet, Milly." He shook his head. "But I'm dirt. I'm not worthy to shine

Vash's shoes." He looked at the cross on one of his cuffs, running a finger down its length. He stood up

suddenly, tearing the jacket off and throwing it on the floor. "Ah, why do I even bother wearing this thing?

I _am_ a hypocrite!"

He sat down and sighed. "You know the stupidest thing about all this? Taking Zazie's life isn't even what

hurts me most. It's that I've lost Vash. All I wanted was to save that bastard's life. Instead, I just killed

our friendship."

"You love Mr. Vash, don't you?"

"What are you, nuts?"

"I mean friend to friend you love him."

He rested a hand on his fist. Finally, he muttered, "Yeah, but don't tell him I said so."

"Well, okay, but maybe if you told him what you told me…"

He shook his head sadly. "He'd never understand." With the half-unbuttoned, loose white shirt, dark

pants, and his shaggy black hair, he now looked like a swashbuckling prince from one of the old planet's

fairy tales. Except I didn't recall any of them ever being as angst-ridden as he was then.

"Mr. Vash may have chewed you out the other day, but generally speaking, he's really not that

judgmental," I remarked. "He's more concerned with his own behavior and if he breaks one of his rules,

rather than if other people break one of his rules."

"Well, he sure gave me a sermon yesterday."

"You may think he did that because he hates you now, but I think it shows he loves you."

"What are you talking about?"

"He wants you to be his brother. To share his ideals."

"He doesn't want me to end up like the brother he already has," Nicholas said, realization dawning in his

voice.

"What bro—?"

"Aah, if he wants to, he'll tell you. But I still don't get that guy," Nicholas mumbled. "I care about him,

but I don't get him. A lot of people in this day and age only understand the point of a gun, not sitting down

and talking about things. It'd be nice if they did talk, but they don't. So..so I've become a killer."

"You're not—"

"I'm a bloodthirsty killer!" he shouted. "I deserve to be a Gung-Ho Gun. I'm no better than any of them.

I'm a bad and evil man."

"No, you're not!" I insisted. "An evil or bad man wouldn't start an orphanage. Or defend people and

communities. The other day, you protected me and that boy from those sand creatures, at the risk of your

own life. An evil man wouldn't do that."

"You see the world through rose-colored glasses, Milly."

It was my turn to shout. "Now listen here—I know everyone thinks of me as ditzy, but I'm just as capable

of making up my mind as anyone else!"

"Yes, you are. My apologies." He stood. "But you haven't changed my mind. I can't live with myself

like this," he said sullenly, pacing. "If you want to leave now, I understand."

"But Mist—_Nicholas_, you've forgotten about all the good you do."

"What good?"

"I just told you."

"_What_ _good_, Milly?"

I listed as many more specific examples as I could think of—how he had fought with Vash to prevent

disaster and tragedy, and I reminded him of his kindness to people and children that he had met. He

listened, still pacing, but said nothing. When I finished, he shook his head. "I dunno, Milly. I don't know

that that's enough to cancel out the bad."

"Silly, don't you remember your Bible training? It's God's forgiveness that matters, not if our good deeds

outweigh our bad deeds."

"Ah, you're right," he admitted, but he sounded reluctant, as though being miserable forever was what he

actually wanted. I guess one could say Nicholas had been acting pathetically this whole conversation, but I

was not repulsed. And though my heart went out to him, I appreciated seeing this more naked side to him.

He wasn't all toughness. He was able to cry, and thankfully so, for he had a lot of pain built up inside.

"Nicholas, you're a hero," I said.

With a sour expression, he waved the notion aside. "I'm a bad guy," he mumbled.

I stood up and faced him, stopping him in his tracks. I had to tell him, and not keep it from him any longer.

I put my hands on his shoulders. "Nicholas," I began, my voice quavering. "You're _my_ hero. Nothing

you do and nothing anyone says is ever going to change that. I love you. I always have loved you. And I

always will."

He was silent for a moment, but kept his gaze locked with mine. Then he softly—almost mumbling—

replied, "I love you, too, honey. It hurts me."

I inched my lips closer to his. "This won't hurt," I assured him. He grunted; it sounded like a mild protest,

but he fully returned my kiss.

We gazed at each other. Nicholas' eyes were wide, and his mouth slightly open. He looked so stunned,

and so vulnerable and helpless. I was amazed by the fact that I had caused these feelings in him. All I

could think of to do to make things right was kiss him again.

His arms wrapped around me, and pulled me in right against him. I could feel so much of him. Our lips

joined a third time, a fourth time. I still couldn't believe this was happening. There was a desperation or

urgency to his kisses. It frightened me, but I liked it. Involuntarily, I moaned.

He pulled away. Again, his eyes met mine. They had gone from having a sad look to glowing with a

primal lust. A heat such as I had never felt before washed over me. I wanted him. All this once good and

chaste girl could think about was sex. "Lie with me," he asked, pressing his lips against my ear, whispering

as though he hoped God wouldn't hear.

I felt my heart beat in my throat. "Okay," I squeaked, slipping my suspenders off my shoulders.

He tore off his shirt. I fell to the mattress, and he collapsed on top of me. As he kissed my neck, my

hands caressed his back; it felt as heated as I felt inside. He had just begun to unbutton my shirt, when he s

stopped, gasping.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He glanced over at his cross, leaning against the wall. "I can't. The Cross!"

"Well, put it outside!"

"Milly, I know I smoke and drink and all that, but I do take my religion at least a _little_ seriously!"

I stood up, buttoning my shirt back up to the top, and leaving my suspenders hanging. "You're right." The

moment was gone. So I thought.

"I'm sorry, Milly. I got too friendly."

"Don't be sorry. I didn't try to stop you, so it's equally my fault." I never doubted that we both loved each

other, but I knew something else was playing a part here—our own inner pain. All the rage and despair he

had been feeling needed an outlet. And he could work out a lot of his frustrations if we made love. And so

could I. In simpler times, we would have shared one kiss and started a chaste and proper courtship. But

now we wanted declaration and consummation all in the same hour. I knew he realized this, that part of his

desire came from angst, and that is why he apologized.

I myself did not have a lot of problems singling me out, but I was carrying around a lot of angst, too, for I

felt his pain. And it wasn't just him I felt badly for—I felt for Vash, who was going through hell with no

end in sight, and for Meryl, who did not know how to help Vash. So even though I tried to put on a cheery

face, how could I not feel troubled, with all my friends' problems surrounding me?

"Milly, there a lot of sins I've committed, especially lately," Nicholas said, looking at the cross. "I don't

want to add fornication to the list."

"Fornu-what?"

"What we started doing," he explained.

"That's like adultery, right?"

"Yeah. A lot like."

"I know what it is, and that it's wrong," I clarified. "I just never heard of it by that name before." I sighed.

"You're right—my parents didn't raise me to be such a girl."

"I don't want to ruin your reputation," Nicholas said, gazing at his feet. "It's just that I need you so much

right now. If only—" He turned to me. "Milly, I know this is sudden, but we have been through a lot

together…"

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will!" I exclaimed with an ecstatic shriek, hugging him.

"Don't you need to think about it?" he asked cautiously.

"No!" I insisted, hopping on foot and then the other. "I'm sure I'm sure!"

"You better get back to Meryl. As soon as we can get out of this town, we'll find someone to marry us."

I stepped into my shoes and opened the door. "Yeah, I suppose I better get back to Meryl. Are you going

to be all right?" I asked, standing in the doorway.

He smiled and caressed my cheek. "I will now." But I knew he needed to be loved—in every way

possible.

I started walking away. I glanced back to see him standing in the doorway, watching me protectively. I

smiled and waved. The wind blew and made me shiver, yet I felt hot inside. Cold and warmth, all at

once—it made me feel woozy, as if I had chills and a fever. But the wind reminded me that I had forgotten

my duster. Oh, and my tie! I turned back.

Already anticipating what I needed, Nicholas dashed to the other room and retrieved my duster and tie. As

he handed them to me, I gazed at his half-undressed body, hoping he wasn't too cold. But, wow, how sexy

he was!

Then an idea sparked in my head, perhaps the most outlandish idea I've ever had. "Nicholas?"

He paused his attempt to close the door. "Yeah, honey?"

"You're a priest, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, why don't you marry us yourself?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking at me as though I were insane. "Milly, I never heard of a priest marrying

himself."

"That doesn't mean it's not allowed! Why, I've read all the Bible before, even the Begats, and I don't

recall it being a sin. And I've heard of similar cases before," I argued fervently. "Couples in isolated

towns with no resident priest make vows to each other, and when the preacher comes to town, they have

him confirm it."

"That's still got to be the craziest thing I've ever heard come in." He took me by the arm and led me over

the threshold. "It's cold outside."

A shaft of moonlight was shining through the window, framing the cross. Nicholas knelt down in front of

it, not facing it directly, but positioned sideways. He gestured for me to do the same. After stepping back

out of my shoes, I did, slowly, facing him. His left hand clutched my right, and his right hand my left hand.

I felt so excited that I wanted to cry out.

When he spoke, it was not to me. "God, I never thought I'd find someone like Milly. I wasn't even

looking for love, but things like these happen when you least expect it. I fought it a little, but soon I didn't

even want to fight anymore. I'm willing to commit to taking her as my wife, and staying true to her

always."

I smiled. My eyes were brimming with unshed tears. He looked at me. I realized he wanted me to state

my commitment. I guess I had been expecting him to lead us in the standard vows, but, heck, those are so

boring and routine anyway. "I, um…" I began, then turned my head shyly.

"Go ahead," he gently prodded. "It's okay. Just speak what's on your mind."

"Dear God," I prayed aloud, with my eyes open. "I love Nicholas—he is a good and wonderful man, no

matter what he says about himself." Here Nicholas looked humbly at the floor. "And…and…I promise to

love, obey, and be true to him until, until…" Here it wasn't shyness causing me to stall.

"Until death do us part," Nicholas completed.

"Yeah," I said. I hadn't wanted to bring up death with the possibility being so real and so soon.

He stood up, and I followed his lead. "I know pronounce us man and wife."

"Um, you may now kiss the bride," I announced.

He drew me into his arms, and passionately pressed his lips on my mouth.

We stood in the moonlight, holding each other. "Nicholas, I'm scared," I confessed.

"Yeah, me, too." He temporarily eased out of my arms, and went to the window. "Better close the

curtains—don't want Vash peeping in."

I giggled. "Or Meryl." He came back to me, standing in front of me expectantly. I ran a hand over his

chest, exploring it. Some guys look funny with their shirts off, but he really did have a fine body. He

shivered at my touch. We kissed twice, quickly but tenderly.

Once again, his hand went to my shirt buttons, his fingers lingering a little longer than it took to unfasten

each one. "I'm not holding myself back this time," he promised.

"My dearest sister told me to never hold back in matters of the heart," I said quietly.

"Let me know if I hurt you."

"She also told me it always hurts a little the first time." I let my shirt fall.

"You sure have a lot of layers of clothing."

"It's a woman's prerogative, here in this lawless land," I said, more loudly, taking off my camisole.

"Keeps the bad guys from getting to her as fast. But that doesn't apply to you. You're a good guy." I

reached behind me to unfasten my bra, and tossed it on the floor. "Oh, yeah, that feels good!" I exclaimed,

stretching my arms up over my head. "You have no idea how restrictive a woman's clothes can be!" He

gazed at me, smiling. "What are you looking at? Oh," I said, realizing I was half naked.

"'You are tall like a palm tree, and your breasts are like its bunches of fruit,'" he recited.

"What?" I demanded.

"Song of Solomon," he explained with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, in the Bible, yeah." I slipped out of the bottom half of my clothing.

"'I will climb up the palm tree and take hold of its fruit,'" he continued.

"Um, sure, you'll get plenty of opportunity for that!" I wondered why they never preached that text as part

of the Sunday sermon!

"In plainer language, I _knew_ you were hiding something neat under those clothes!"

I took hold of the top of his pants. "And I bet you're hiding something neat under here!"

**Meryl:** **All this time, I was doing nothing much, staying in the abandoned home we had temporarily **

**adopted as our own. Wondering where Milly was. True, she said she might be late. Should I worry? **

**There wasn't anyone else in town but the four of us..that I knew of. It wasn't like there were robbers **

**and rapists prowling about. But it was such a creepy place.**

**I fell upon a bed, not lying vertically, but horizontally across its width, my feet dangling over the side. **

**I sighed, staring up at the ceiling, and unintentionally fell asleep, fully dressed. Little did I know **

**then that Milly was also in bed, but she was naked, and not alone.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter five: The Stolen Night of Passion

Milly: He was a work of art naked. His shoulders were broad and his arms muscular. His thighs were powerful,

and his stomach tight. I haven't seen much in the way of nude males to be able to accurately judge, but he sure

didn't seem to be lacking in any way. It made me a bit nervous, actually. Put all together, he was magnificent. And

he was all mine.

He smiled shyly but warmly, and gestured for me to come over. I wobbled over and literally fell into his arms.

"Easy, honey, it's okay," he assured me softly. "C'mon."

His hand fumbled with the light, but I stopped him before he could set it. "I don't want it on or off, just dim," I

suggested. "I want to be able to see you."

"Good idea," he said, smiling, then led me over to the bed. I gratefully sank upon it. "I want to see you, too." He

lay me back on the mattress—backwards, too! Our heads were at the foot of the bed. It didn't matter. I breathed

rapidly as I looked up at him—there would be no turning back now.

So many new sensations. I felt the warmth of his chest pressed up against my breasts. I could feel his heart beat—

even imagined I could feel the blood coursing through his veins. I felt his warm breath on my neck. My eyes saw

his beautiful face and body, and they saw him look at me with tenderness and desire. My ears heard him moan—

moan as if he were in pain, yet enjoying it.

And then I felt him deep inside me. The blood coursing through his veins was now running through mine. Every

part of my body, from my fingertips to my toes, was flushed with fire.

One phase of my life was behind me.

Tears flowed freely from my eyes. Some were bittersweet tears at losing my innocence, but other tears were from

joy at having become one with the man I loved.

We lay in each other's arms, catching our breath. Then, softly pressing his lips against my wet cheeks, Nicholas

kissed the tears away. "It didn't hurt, did it?"

"A little—but in a good way," I assured him.

As after our first kiss, he looked vulnerable—and surprised that all this had happened. I leaned on one of my arms,

while my other hand played with one of his locks of hair. "What's it like for you?" I asked, in almost a whisper.

"It's like…like dying, yet feeling more alive than ever. And feeling weak and strong all at the same time. And

captive, but free."

"Yeah, I think I know what-" I sat up. "Hey!"

"What?"

"The cross is still in the room."

"Yeah, I didn't move it. Don't you remember?"

"I was distracted. It didn't bother you anymore?"

He lay back with his arms folded behind his head. "Heck, no. We pledged ourselves to each other in marriage—it's

not a sinful thing anymore."

"Yeah, that's right!"

"Sex _is_ in the Bible, you know, and not just commands against it—well, certain forms of it. I was reciting from

Song of Solomon-don't you remember reading it?"

"It's been awhile."

"That's very erotic—if you know what to look for-but the two lovers are married. But some nights, when I can't

sleep, I'll read that."

I punched him playfully. "Hee hee! You're silly! Reading the Bible to get turned on!"

"Well, how about those 'Begats' you were talking about? Nobody could begat if they didn't have sex."

Feeling a bit silly, I started reciting the Begats. "'And Attai begat Nathan, and Nathan begat Zabad…'"

"You memorized those?" Nicholas asked incredulously.

"Uh-huh. 'And Zabad begat Ephlal…'"

"Of all the passages in the Bible, you chose that. What about John 3:16?"

"Oh, anyone can memorize John 3:16. I wanted to do something different."

"But that's the most important verse in the Bible. The Begats are just genealogy."

"'And Ephlal begat Obed, and Obed begat Jehu…'"

"Shut up."

"'And Jehu begat Azariah, and Azariah begat Heloz…'"

"No, I mean it."

"What are you going to do?" I demanded, in mock toughness.

"I'm gonna shove my tongue down your throat."

"Oh, I see!" Wickedly, I continued, "'And Heloz begat Eleasah, and Eleasah bega—'Mmmph!"

When he released my mouth and I caught my breath, I asked, "I'd like it if we'd do some begatting of our own."

"Yeah, I like kids. I never thought about having any of my own, though, you know, having so many kids at the

orphanage…"

While he was talking, my hands kept caressing him. All over—to memorize with my fingers every inch of him.

Deep down, I knew I had to file all these things in my memory. My tender and sometimes bold touches were getting

to him.

"Milly, you make me so crazy!"

"You mean irritate you, or drive you wild?"

"A little of both," he gasped. "But..but mostly the last one." He cried out as I touched him again. "Why, you little

devil!"

"Oh, I'm a devil now? I thought I was your angel of mercy."

"Just shut up." He drew me in closer, and we kissed.

We didn't do a lot of talking after that. They say with sex you can communicate without words. I understood that

Nicholas was saying to me that I was beautiful, and that I was well-loved. I tried to communicate to him that he,

too, was beautiful. And that he was very worthy of my love.

Nicholas closed his eyes and settled down in the crook of my arm. His shaggy black locks brushed against

my face. He seemed to me so innocent then, and I wanted to protect him.

I know what they say about guys—that all they want is sex, whenever and however. But it was obvious to me, that

although I had given him much pleasure, that Nicholas had sacrificed something of himself for me that night.

Something…he said he hadn't taken a vow to celibacy, right? So I hadn't made him break a promise—that I knew

of. Yet he had been living free from the chains of romance and sex. I had made him feel free and strong and alive,

but I had also made him feel bound and weak and as though he were dying. Yeah, he had to give up something to

love me. And I was grateful.

"You know, once when I was traveling from town to town…" he mentioned. "It was when I was looking for Vash, I

think. There was nothing but canyonland as far as the eye could see. And I was thinking of you, as I often did, and

I was just overcome for some reason. I sank to my knees and shouted your name, shouted 'I love you', and listened

to the canyon echo it back."

I smiled. "Really—you could tell the canyon but you couldn't tell me!" I pretended to chide.

"I can tell you now."

"Well, tell me."

"I love you, Milly Thompson."

"I love you, darling," I cooed.

"Good night, honey," he said through a yawn, then mumbled, "May the Lord bless thee and keep thee. May the

Lord make His face shine upon thee and give thee…" I think he fell asleep mid-benediction.

"—Rest?" I completed.

We slept cuddled together—it was a small bed anyway. (And yes, we did sleep on the bed upside-down.) Because

we had taken marriage vows, no matter how unofficial or likely to be recognized, I felt no guilt..well, except once

during the night when I woke suddenly, sitting bolt upright, and wondered _What am I doing here?_ I glanced over at

Nicholas. He was lying on his side. His body was uncovered, and the moons' light was shining on his skin. I

nestled up beside him, pulling the blankets back up over the both of us. He yawned and draped an arm around me,

and I felt more warmth and security than any blanket could give me. I sighed with resigned pleasure and drifted

back to sleep.

I awoke once more during the night, to see him standing by the window. He had opened the curtains and was

smoking a cigarette. His pants were on, but they were unfastened at the top.

"What's wrong?"

"If I…" Nicholas began, calculating in his mind. "If I shot the gun out of Zazie's hand…"

"But he had two guns," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but maybe if I—"

"Stop worrying yourself!"

"Ah, Vash doesn't need me. He'd have survived that situation himself somehow." I could see it now—underneath

that tough façade was a little boy who wanted his best friend back. "What am I going to do about Vash? They

expect me to kill him."

"You won't kill him," I stated. "I know you won't."

"I don't think I can," he agreed, then added sourly, "But then I'll be the one who gets killed." Before I could say

anything, he continued, "And where does that leave you? What if I got you pregnant? People aren't gonna believe

we were married. They'll treat you like dirt."

I had some arguments in mind, but they disappeared when I tried to speak.

"I'm sorry, honey," he apologized. "I shouldn't have got you into this."

"Don't be sorry. It's what I wanted. It's what I _want_—not being treated like dirt, of course! But being married to

you, and having a baby. If it comes to that, that I'm a single mother, I won't let them bring me down. I know who I

am, they don't."

He walked to the ashtray and crushed out his cigarette. "I just don't know that we did the right thing."

I sat up. "Look, Nicholas, all I know is tonight you gave me pure and true love. You weren't just using me."

He shook his head. "No, I would never abuse you like that. You're my honey."

"We did what we could to make it official—after all, we're in a ghost town iles from civilization. It's not like we're

in New Vegas with those all-night wedding chapels."

He chuckled.

"Now come back to bed!" I insisted. "It's getting cold." Before he could get back on the mattress, I added, "Oh,

and we were sleeping _nude_, remember?"

"I thought you said it was getting cold."

After undressing, he slid back under the covers, and leaned against my breasts. "Already I'm hooked on this—

having you near."

I stroked his hair. "Yeah, me, too. Now I don't want you worrying about anything else tonight, you hear? We're in

our own little world."

He drifted off quickly to sleep, but I heard him mumble, "I'm sorry, Vash." I sighed. I guess I had wished my love

could erase all his troubles and pain.

I awoke, lying on my side. The first hint of dawn was dimly lighting the room. Nicholas was awake; he was

smiling and caressed my cheek tenderly. I grabbed his hand as he reached for me again, squeezing it. His dark eyes

were shining with love, so much so that I would have swooned had we not already been lying in bed.

We needed no words. I kissed his ear, his cheek, and then his lips. He laughed in happiness.

So we made love one more time. One last time. I was his, but he was also mine. "Oh, Milly, Milly, I don't know

how you do this to me."

As the sun reached its fullest level of brightness, he poured into me all his love and passion. We didn't want it to

end—afterwards, we just clung to each other fiercely, making each minute pass as slowly as possible through our

own sheer willpower. Appreciating each moment of tenderness as though it was our last—as we were both well

aware it could be. But we couldn't stay this way forever—eventually, Nicholas eased out of my arms, and sat naked

on the end of the bed. "I've got to go out there," he mumbled. "This isn't the kind of thing you can put off."

I sighed and searched for my borrowed pajamas.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter six: The Long Goodbye

I was still in my nightclothes, but Nicholas was getting ready to face the day. He put his shirt and jacket on. "Um,

Nick, your pants—they're not…" I began to advise.

"Oh, yeah." He zipped them up all the way.

"You've got some hair sticking straight up."

He patted it down, then grabbed me by my upper arms.. "Ah, you're gonna make a good wife, aren't you, my

honey?"

"Yes, if you come back. You will come back, won't you?"

"I'll try. And when I do, we'll settle down. I guess go back to the orphanage and start a home there."

"Oh, I kinda like trailing along with Vash and Meryl," I remarked.

He shrugged. "Or we could do that. Whatever makes you happy, honey—that's all I care about now." I didn't

believe that I was all he cared about, but it was touching for him to say that, and I think he believed it at the moment.

"Then there's kids—you want kids?"

I nodded.

"Then we'll have kids—as many as you want." He was silent for a moment, leaning his hand against the doorframe.

Then he laughed.

"What?" I asked curiously.

He shook his head. "I just never thought I'd be talking about having kids of my own." He sighed, and the air turned

somber. "I wish I could stay here with you all day."

"Then why don't you?"

"This is serious business. People's lives are at stake here, not just mine."

"You're not planning on getting yourself killed, are you, Mister—er, Nicholas?" I don't believe I kept doing that.

"You were suicidal yesterday. This isn't suicide, is it?"

"No, Milly, no," he assured me, grabbing my shoulders again. "I want to come back to you. Even if I never patch

things up with Vash, you've given me something to live for. I hope we'll be together tonight—or even fifty years

from now."

"I hope so, too, Nicholas."

"I can't guarantee anything, though, honey. It's in God's hands now. Just remember Romans 8:28."

I drew a blank. "That's not in the Begats, is it?"

He laughed in appreciation of my more dizzy qualities, then said, "No, it's 'All things work together for good to

them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose.'"

"Oh."

"Milly, even if I don't come back, somehow it will work out for the greater good."

My eyes were about to overflow. "I don't see how."

"Sometimes we can't see, but-."

"I guess we find out in Paradise if we don't find out here," I ventured. Some of the water escaped my eyes, and

trickled down my cheeks.

As he had last night, Nicholas caught my tears with his lips. "Don't cry, honey. Be brave. I know you are."

"I love you, Nicholas. I don't want you to leave me."

He held me. "I know. I love you, too. Since we first met."

I squeezed him tighter, at a loss for words.

"Believe me, Milly, if there was any other way…" He broke off, and I pulled back to see tears on his face. As he

had done for me, I kissed them away.

He smiled. I smiled. We leaned our foreheads together for a moment.

He grabbed his cross, carrying it over to the door and resting it in the frame. Then he clutched my arms. "C'mon,

give me a kiss for luck."

I kissed him briefly.

"And one to help get me through the day," he requested. So I kissed him again. This time it was longer, more full

of feeling.

Then I squeezed him tightly, making the next kiss last as long as kisses possibly could.

"What was that one for?" he asked, panting to catch his breath.

"Mmm, just because," I lied. In truth, it was for something to remember him by in case I never saw him again.

He leaned in towards me again, this time giving me a kiss so soft and tender that it filled me with joy and sorrow and

longing and contentment simultaneously. "That's because I want you to always remember that I love you," he

explained.

"Uh-huh," I said, nodding stupidly.

He put his shades on, took his cross to his shoulder, then walked across the threshold. Then he must have realized

how dark everything seemed, for in an attempt to lighten the mood, he looked back at me, lowering his sunglasses so

I could see his eyes. "Hey, Milly, wait here until I get back," he said casually, then winked.

"Okay," I blurted, without really thinking about it.

"Promise?" he asked, and I knew it wasn't a casual request at all.

I nodded solemnly. "I promise."

"I don't want you getting caught in the crossfire," he insisted. He tousled my hair, then tried to console me with

these words: "Hey, one night together is better than never."

I watched him walk away.

"Oh, please come back, Mr. Wolfwood," I said to myself. "Nicholas."

I sat on the bed, my arms wrapped around my knees. I wanted to be able to bask in the afterglow of last night and

that morning, but I was too worried that Nicholas would never return, and we would never make love again. With

each burst of gunfire, I was aware that Nicholas could have just been shot—torn apart, even—and was now dying, if

not already dead. So with each shot, I flinched. I wish I hadn't vowed to obey him—maybe I could be out there

doing something to protect him. But he in turn would feel responsible for my safety. I wondered—would it be his

fault if I went out there and got killed? Or if I stayed here and did nothing, and he got killed, would it be my fault?

But all I felt I could do was obey his request for me to stay put until he returned.

**Meryl: Looking around town, I located the building where Milly was at—Wolfwood's motorcycle nearby **

**gave it away. I found Milly, looking troubled as she sat in defensive posture on the mattress, mumbling **

**something about "he" telling her to stay here. "Have you been here all night?" I wondered. Why was she **

**still in her pajamas? **

"**Uh-huh."**

"**With Mr. Wolfwood?"**

"**Uh-huh."**

"**Milly," I said earnestly. "Did you…" Here I faltered, trying to think of a euphemistic way to phrase things. **

"**You know…"**

"**Uh-huh," she answered.**

"**Go all the way?"**

"**Yes, ma'am."**

"**WHAT?!" I shouted.**

"**Please don't yell."**

**I lowered my voice, but talked very rapidly. "Milly, I thought you were the most innocent person I've ever **

**met. But then you go and sleep with a priest, of all people." First, he used a cross-shaped weapon to murder **

**a child. Then he struck the man that I love—I could still see the blood dripping from Vash's mouth. And **

**now that stupid priest had gone and deflowered my best friend! "How dare he call himself a man of God! If **

**Vash won't belt him one, I will!"**

"**Shut up!" Milly shrieked at the top of her lungs. I was stunned. She had never spoken to me in such a **

**manner. "You wouldn't understand—you wouldn't even try to understand!" I didn't know her anymore. **

**She would never be the same—I had heard horror stories of perfectly sweet maidens developing nasty **

**temperaments upon losing their virginity. "He needs me."**

"**They all say that. Were you rewarding him for what he did in Keybos?"**

"**He's a good man, Meryl!" She brought up a few incidents that proved Wolfwood's heart of gold.**

**I was reluctant to forgive him. "But he seduced you."**

**She looked up at me. "No! It was what both of us wanted! We love each other."**

"**Milly, I'm just worried your reputation could be ruined because of this."**

"**He's my husband," she revealed.**

**I nearly went into shock. "How did you get married in the middle of nowhere? There's no preacher—" I **

**stopped myself. "I see..he told you that since he was a priest, he could marry him and you himself."**

"**No, I told him. If there's anyone to blame for letting things go as far as they did, it's me."**

"**Oh, Milly, how could you be so foolish! I'm sure that's not legal! And no one's going to believe you're **

**married anyway!"**

**She burst into tears. And I recognized the Milly I had always known—Wolfwood hadn't taken her from me. **

**Milly would always be Milly, even if she wasn't a maiden anymore.**

**I rushed to her, hugging her shoulders. "Oh, Milly, don't cry! I'm sorry. You're a sweetheart. You're right. **

**I forgot about all the brave and nice things Mr. Wolfwood has done. I know you love him. I'm sorry."**

"**But if our wedding's invalid, then all we did last night…" She sniffed. "…Was spend the night in sin! But **

**we love each other—we pledged our love and commitment to each other."**

"**Well, if both of you really meant those vows…" I began hesitantly, then shrugged.**

"**He's gonna die today," she whimpered, as I sat down beside her.**

"**What?"**

"**Didn't you hear the gunfire?"**

"Yes, but, Milly—both Vash and Mr. Wolfwood have been in gunfights before. They've always come

through okay."

Milly: Meryl and I had said everything we could say at the moment, and she was merely keeping me silent

company. She wanted to go out and check on Vash and Nicholas, although she didn't say so. She didn't want to

leave me, although she was worried about her man. As I was about mine.

Sometimes there is nothing you can do but pray.

I noticed I hadn't heard any gunfire in awhile.

Then we heard Vash out in the street, shouting Meryl's name frantically.

Meryl opened the door. "Vash! I'm right here!"

"Could you..could you come help me with something?" His voice was high-strung. He came to the door, glancing

in. His face was red, as though he'd been crying. He looked at me briefly, and I was embarrassed that I was still not

dressed at this time of day. But more strongly I felt dread, because I had a feeling that I knew what Vash was so

upset about.

Meryl agreed to go with him, and I was alone again.

**Meryl:** **Once outside and several feet away from the house where Milly remained, Vash turned to me and **

**grasped my upper arm with one hand. His other hand was holding some canvas and black rope—the cover to **

**Wolfwood's cross, I realized. Vash looked at me with an expression of sadness and sincerity. "Meryl, **

**Nicholas is.." I noted the oddity of him calling the priest by his first name instead of his last. "He's dead."**

**I gasped.**

**He started walking, and I followed. "I need to retrieve his cross. Later, he'll have to be moved so we can **

**bury him."**

**I followed, and we soon came to a trail of pools of blood. I realized it was Wolfwood's life blood spilled upon **

**the ground. I choked back the urge to vomit.**

**Vash held out his flesh arm, and I wrapped myself around it for support. "Close your eyes; I'll lead the **

**way," he suggested.**

"**Did he kill himself?" I wondered.**

"**Not exactly," Vash replied enigmatically. "He died a hero, as far as I'm concerned."**

**After a minute or two, I felt our path darken, and the surface under my feet had changed. We had entered a **

**building. I opened my eyes and saw we were in a church. Down the aisle were more pools of blood. **

**Wolfwood was crumpled on the floor, and his cross had fallen over. His face looked bruised and battered. **

**Vash recounted the story of the last time he saw his friend alive. "…When I came to the church, I heard **

**Wolfwood praying. Talking to God. I didn't want to interrupt him, so I stayed right outside the door. Then **

**he stopped talking. I came in, and found him in a kneeling position. He died like that—kneeling."**

"**I think you should know something," I said, facing in the direction of the door. "Milly and Mr. Wolfwood **

**became lovers last night. She seems to think they're married."**

"**Then the cross belongs to her," Vash stated, as though not surprised by my news. "Can you help me carry **

**it?"**

"**I'm afraid I'll step in a puddle of blood."**

"**I'm sorry. I didn't want to put you through this, but there's no one else in town."**

**I nodded grimly. "I know. I'll do my best." Suddenly, I could hold it back no more. I vomited on the **

**church's lovely carpet.**

"**Are you all right?" Vash asked.**

"**I threw up in a church," I fretted. "I'm sorry, God."**

"**I'm sure, given the circumstances, that He'll forgive you."**

"**There's been so much death and craziness lately. I'm not used to it," I rambled through tears. " I lived a **

**pretty sheltered life growing up. My biggest problem was not always getting along with my Mom. Now the **

**whole world seems to be falling apart. And if it's like that for me, I can't imagine what it's like for you."**

"**It's not easy," he confessed. "But somehow I manage. I hate to tell Milly."**

"**She knows—she told me he was going to die today. Oh, you're right; it still will be hard to tell her."**

**We hugged consolingly. "Hey, about your handling things," Vash began softly. "I think you're being really **

**strong."**

Milly: I don't know how long it was—less than an hour, I think—Meryl and Vash came back, sharing the load of

Nicholas' cross, which they brought in and leaned against the wall. I stood up, knowing what this meant, but I had

to hear it for myself.

Vash, his sunglasses covering his eyes, laid a hand on my shoulder and said, without much expression, "I'm sorry,

Milly. More than you know." Then he marched outside.

Frantically, I glanced at Meryl, whose face was pale. "Meryl…?" I squealed.

She nodded grimly, closing her eyes. "Yes, he's dead, Milly. I'm sorry."

Last night and this morning, we had talked about him possibly dying, but it hadn't prepared me in the slightest for

his actual death. I burst into tears. Meryl tried to offer me a consoling touch, but I turned my back on her and sank

to the floor, resting my head on the mattress where Nicholas and I had made love. I cried harder than I've ever cried

before or cried since. I sobbed and sobbed, and wailed and shrieked, until my supply of tears was exhausted…for

the time being.

After awhile, my tears chased even Meryl from the room, and she went outside. When my wailing had

subsided, I heard the door open and heard the clunking of Vash's boots. He sat down beside me on the floor, and

was silent.

After a few minutes, he put his arms around me and drew me in. I rested my head against his chest. "Mister Wolf-,

um, Nicholas…" I began, but cried again. Vash stroked my hair, then lightly kissed the top of my head. "We took

vows…"

"Yes, I know. Meryl told me."

"I think—I think you should know what he told me yesterday." He didn't reply, so I continued on. "The Gung-Ho

Guns were trying to force his hand. For a long time now. Only he tried to fight back whenever he could. But they

were threatening the orphanage." I sniffed back some mucus.

"That does explain some things," he said simply.

"They wanted him to kill you," I continued. I looked into my friend's eyes. "He never wanted to kill you, Mr.

Vash."

He patted my arm. "I know."

"Where did you find him?" I asked. "Was he already dead? Was he dying?"

In a steady, unemotional tone, Vash explained about trailing Nicholas to the church. He finished with an

odd note. "It's my fault, Milly," he confessed in a broken voice.

"How is it your fault?" I wondered disbelievingly.

"Maybe I shouldn't have waited for him to finish praying. I might have been able to help him."

I looked down at the ground. "Maybe he knew it was too late for him anyway. That's why he went to the church

instead of asking for help. You know it's not your fault."

"There's one other thing, Milly," he continued, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. "What I heard him

say—I think he renounced his lifestyle and took up mine in the end. What I mean is, I think he died because he

didn't finish off his opponent when he had the chance."

"It's a good way of life," I said weakly.

"One I taught him at the wrong time. I wished he had let Zazie kill me instead of killing Zazie. Now I almost wish

he had killed his opponent while he had the chance, instead of getting k-" He slapped his forehead. "Oh, that's not

right! I wish there were a way everyone could have survived." He sighed. "I wonder why you're not mad at me. If

I hadn't come down so hard on him in Keybos…"

"I can see why I should be mad at you, Mr. Vash," I said carefully. "But somehow, I'm just sad for you and I.

Anyway, you didn't force Nicholas to take that stand. It was his choice."

He looked at me, an earnest expression in his eyes. "When you talked last night, did he mention anything about

following my example?"

"He was sorry he shot Zazie too soon, without seeing what he was going to do. He did wonder if maybe you were

right. And he was upset he lost your friendship."

Vash shook his head. "He never lost that. He knew that today, too. We parted on good terms."

"I'm glad. You really meant a lot to him, Mr. Vash. He loved you." I blushed. "He, um, told me not to tell you

that."

I meant it in consolation, but tears ran once again out of Vash's eyes. "Don't you see—he ended up getting killed

because he was trying to please me!" he shouted. "Why do I kill everyone I love?"

He was silent, stewing for a few moments. Finally, I spoke, "You mentioned he confessed his sins before God."

"Yeah. He was really quite honest and open with God. Like he was talking to a human that was right there."

"That means Jesus has covered his sins. He's not really gone forever. He's in Paradise now. And someday we'll be

able to see him again."

Vash laughed a little. "I wonder how soon that'll be for me. The way things are going—maybe real soon. Then

again, I could come through that alright and live for years and years—far longer than you can imagine."

I was puzzled. I did not know yet of his alien life span. "What do you mean by that?"

His lips curled slightly, and he changed the subject, placing his hands on my shoulders. "You know, Milly, no

matter what anyone's gonna say, I now think of you as Mrs. Wolfwood."

I smiled, feeling hopeful.

"That means what he has goes to you," Vash continued. "The cross is now yours."

"It means a lot to me. It really does."

"You've told me things I should know about Wolfwood. Now let me tell you something. Awhile back, shortly after

we left Karsted City, Wolfwood and I were sharing a hotel room. I woke up first, and went over to shake him

awake. He looks up at me, looking disappointed. 'Oh, it's you,' he said.

"'Well, who would you rather have me be?' I demanded.

"He just smiled sheepishly and said, 'Milly. Someday I think I'd like to wake up and find her beside me.' Then he

put his head back down on the pillow.

"I acted shocked, like you're supposed to be a priest and you're lusting after a girl and it's my duty to defend the

virtue of the Insurance Girls who have been my companions in so many adventures.

"He hit me off the side of the head. 'I didn't mean a cheap tryst, you knucklehead! I mean that I love her!' At

which point, he froze because he knew he said too much. Man, he had to make all sorts of threats to get me to keep

quiet!"

Vash and I both laughed about that, then grew silent once more. A large tear leaked from one of his eyes. After a

minute or two, he struggled to his feet. "Sorry, Milly. I gotta go start digging a grave."

I cried again. Vash patted my hair. "I'll—I'll go get Meryl," he reassured me, sounding like he needed some more

reassurance himself.

Meryl: I wandered out of Milly's room now and then, just to get a breath of fresh air. I saw Vash standing

outside with a partially eaten, browning piece of fruit. "Where'd you get the apple?" I asked curiously.

"**I found it at the site where Wolfwood was shot," he said with a shrug. "I traced his blood trail to an alley **

**back there." Suddenly, he tossed the apple into the air, drawing his gun and shooting it apart.**

**It was getting dark when I left Milly again to check on Vash at the church. As I drew nearer, the lights of the **

**churchyard came on. Vash somberly walked out, carrying Wolfwood in his arms. He carefully placed his **

**dead friend down at the edge of the church's graveyard, near a newly dug, relatively shallow grave. A **

**wooden cross between four and five feet tall was lying on the ground nearby. I saw that on it Vash had **

**carved Wolfwood's name.**

"**Where'd you get that cross?" I asked.**

"**It was in the supply room in the church," he reminded me. "The congregation won't be needing it **

**anymore."**

"**Yeah, I guess not."**

**Vash sighed. "Well..it's time. Go get Milly."**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter seven: Funeral by Night

Milly: Meryl walked in. "Milly, um, you've got to start getting ready for the funeral."

I nodded glumly. I didn't really want to go, but I had to—I was his widow. But I didn't want to see his dead body.

I just wanted to run away.

"Do you want me to bring you a fresh change of clothes?"

"Guess," I muttered, meaning, "I guess so."

She nodded and left.

I sat sulking a moment longer, the suddenly had an idea. I walked into the back room and pulled out the green dress

that I had tried on yesterday. I smiled wistfully as I remembered the spark in Nicholas' eyes when he had seen me

in it. "Yes, I shall wear this."

After I dressed, I raided the house for a couple of other things I wanted to bring with me to the funeral. One was

Nicholas' Bible. Like any Bible reader, he had highlighted some verses. Oddly, he kept marking a verse repeated in

Judges: "In those days Israel did not have a king, so everyone did what seemed right." I guess the history of the

book of Judges seemed rather like our planet, with everyone forced to take the law into their own hands and make

up their own justice.

I remembered some verses I memorized as a child, and thumbed past the book of Judges to find them.

Meryl peered in. "Milly, we're ready. Do you want to see him before-?" She put my now unneeded everyday

clothes down on the bed.

I looked up from the floor and nodded, putting the Bible's ribbon on one page, and folding some other pages in to

mark the place of a couple of other verses. I took the book with me.

"That's a pretty dress, Milly," Meryl remarked. "Where did you get it?"

I jerked a thumb towards the house and the unknown girl's bedroom. "Back."

Meryl walked with me to the church yard. The night sky was ink black, and the wind blew in cold, howling gusts.

My hair was tossed in every direction, and my many layers of clothing could not keep me from shivering. Had it

been this cold last night? We hadn't felt it.

I suppose you could call the weather bad or dreadful or nasty, but I appreciated it. It was as if God Himself were

mourning. Or as if the spirit world were not far away.

I could sense rather than see Vash look up at me, surprised at my outfit.

Beside the grave he had dug lay Nicholas' body. Holding my hands to my mouth, as though in shock, I collapsed

into a kneeling position beside it. His complexion was gray; his face was scratched and bruised and raw in some

places, but he did not look too different from what he had looked like in life. Those scars on his face would never

get a chance to heal. I wanted to shout out, "Who did this?" Was it that Chapel person Nicholas had talked about,

or did he have help? At the moment, I felt like I could successfully take them on, fueled by my grief and anger.

Placing the Bible aside on the ground, I reached out a shaking hand to touch Nicholas' face. There was no warmth

from his skin. I put my hand over his heart; I could no longer feel it beat. No blood coursed through his veins. No

breath escaped his lips. His eyes were closed—I could not gaze into them one more time. I refrained from kissing

him—I knew his lips would be cold and unresponsive. I would rather have our last kiss be that tender one, when he

told me, "That's because I want you to always remember that I love you."

"Nicholas," I whispered. "My honey." I pulled back his bloody jacket and shirt, despite Meryl's warning of,

"Milly, don't!", and gazed upon the gaping hole a bullet had left in his chest. My hand last night had caressed that

very spot. I shuddered. Fresh tears ran down my cheeks, but I kept myself from sobbing.

I retrieved a pair of scissors and an envelope. "Milly—" Meryl began again, but Vash hushed her. I cut off a lock

from my husband's bangs, then placed it in the envelope.

"A keepsake," I explained to Meryl. She nodded.

I also snipped a button off of his jacket. Meryl didn't ask about that—she remembered the high school custom of a

girl asking a guy she was sweet on for a button off of his clothes. The lock of hair…and the button…I just wanted

something to hold on to. Something to remind me that Nicholas had indeed once walked this planet and I hadn't

merely dreamed him up.

Vash put the body in the grave. We then looked at him expectantly, as though he himself were a priest and must

preside over the burial. "I, uh, well," he began. "Nicholas D. Wolfwood was a man who, ever since I've known

him—and before—fought to protect the helpless. I didn't tell him this, but he was my best friend. And,

well..now…?" He barely said the last word, then stopped. His fists clenched and his face reddened, and then his

rage exploded. "Why, God?" he shouted to the sky. "Why'd you have to take him, too? Are the girls next? Must I

be alone forever? Why does this keep happening to me? I don't deserve this!"

I must admit, I was afraid of him at that moment, and looked aside—only to find my gaze upon my Nicholas, lying

in the grave. I shut my eyes, but Vash had stopped screaming. I saw Meryl holding him from behind while he

sobbed quietly. I realized in awe that the love of friendship Vash felt for Nicholas—and his love for Vash—rivaled

our own romantic love.

After regaining his composure, Vash looked at me. "I'm sorry, Milly."

"Okay," I squeaked meekly.

"I shouldn't blame God, I guess. There's someone else to blame. You, um, had some verses you wanted me to

read?"

I handed him the Bible, pointing to one page. "Here, read these two verses. Matthew 10: 38 and 39."

"'Whoever is not willing to carry the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who try to hold on to their

lives will give up true life. Those who give up their lives for me will hold on to true life.'"

"He was willing to carry the cross, you know," I pointed out. "And read these verses. John 11: 25-26."

"'I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me will have life even if they die. And everyone who

lives and believes in me will never die.'"

"Believers will be redeemed in the end," Vash remarked, closing the Bible and handed it back to me, saying, "I like

those verses, Milly. I hope with all my heart they're true."

It had been an ad-libbed funeral. Appropriate enough, considering it followed an ad-libbed wedding.

"Throw some dirt in the grave, Milly," Meryl encouraged. "You're his widow." I perked up—it was the first time

she acknowledged that Nicholas' and my vows were legitimate. I picked up a handful of dirt from the ground

surrounding my beloved's grave. I didn't like the finality of it all, not when we all believed in the afterlife. Most of

the sand sifted through my fingers, back to the ground around me instead of into the grave. I just knelt there

contemplating death and whether it is forever. And thinking of Nicholas, my poor Nicholas. His body, which

should have been good for so much more love, would rot. Finally, bursting into tears yet again, I threw a few grains

of sand into the hole, like an angry person throwing a vase. No, death wasn't forever, but I realized it may be

several years—several decades, even—before I would again see him smiling at me. And would it be the same?

**Meryl: ** **Weeping, Milly ran away—well, at first, she crawled, until she managed to get to her feet. Then she **

**ran, back towards the place she and Wolfwood had shared for one night. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked her **

**to throw the dirt," I fretted. I glanced at Vash. One hand covered his eyes, the other held another fistful of **

**dirt. He poured it into the grave, then looked at me pointedly.**

**I realized he wanted me to place a handful in the grave as well. But Milly was Wolfwood's lover, and Vash **

**was his best friend—what connection did I have to him? But Vash seemed to think that I should. I scooped **

**up some dirt, and scattered it over the fallen man's chest. **

**I felt a sharp pang of grief. Wolfwood. What a strange man. When I first met him, I thought he was absurd **

**and full of contradictions—and also the perfect playmate for Vash.**

**I'll say this for him—he had indeed often risked his life on others' behalf. Milly was right to remind me of **

**that—it had gotten so all I could see was him taking Bete down. I had forgotten he was my friend.**

**Wolfwood. Gallant yet, well, comical. And full of life. I didn't foresee such a tragic ending so soon. I didn't **

**expect to see him lying cold and still while an angst-ridden Vash shoveled dirt on to him. I didn't realize I **

**would cry.**

**In the windy night, Vash tearfully spoke to the deceased priest. "I'm sorry I'm so sorry. I love you, buddy."**

"**Vash, are you okay?" I asked.**

"**I saw the closest thing I had to a home crash. A young man who hadn't had a chance to live took bullets for **

**me. Now I've lost my best friend to a bloody death, but other than that.." He paused from his digging, **

**smiling without mirth, "Yeah, I'm fine."**

"**Do you need help?"**

"**No—I'm a natural born gravedigger! In fact, this is my second one today! Maybe when this is all over and **

**I can finally settle down, I'll take this up as my profession."**

"**Second one today? Oh, you mean Cain." He had told me about the long-range gunner earlier that day.**

"**I understand now why Cain shot himself. You go against their will, and they'll punish you."**

"**Who?"**

**He continued on, oblivious to my question. "Zazie may have been forced to shoot us after all."**

"**You think so?" I wondered if he were just rationalizing the actions of his friend, more beloved now that he **

**was dead.**

"**I guess we'll never know." He paused digging and speaking for a moment, then continued. "Wolfwood **

**wasn't as easy for them to manipulate as they thought. He fought back one too many times, and now he's **

**dead."**

"**Are you always going to be so vague? I'm a grown woman, I—"**

"**Do you know what you can do to help me?" he broke in. "Look in the kitchens around here and see if you **

**can find some beer or whisky or something with a punch."**

**With reluctance, I nodded. I knew just where to find some wine—I had seen a bottle in the home in which **

**Milly and I were staying. I didn't like Vash drinking, but I didn't think it the appropriate time to nag him **

**about it.**

**I fetched the bottle and a corkscrew for him. Ceremoniously, he popped open the bottle, pouring a little** **into **

**the grave. "Here's to you, Nicholas D. Wolfwood," he said, then took a swig himself. "May there never be **

**any pain for you again."**

"**There's another shovel back in the place I'm staying at," I mentioned. "I'll go get that and help you."**

"**Yeah, whatever," he said, already sounding drunk.**

**I came back with the extra shovel and helped fill in the grave. We worked quietly for awhile—the body itself **

**was covered up by the time Vash broke the silence, though the hole was not filled in. "How did I meet **

**Wolfwood?"**

"**On a bus," I reminded him.**

"**Oh, yeah! I couldn't remember. All I remember is him going out with me to face those machines. I **

**was so impressed he was willing to lay his life on the line—"**

"**I think he was impressed with you, too."**

"**Maybe. I guess that's why we took to each other. We fought together against things like injustice. But **

**now…" He paused from shoveling. "I guess I'm just meant to walk alone."**

"**Vash, you are not meant to walk alone!" I insisted. "I'll walk with you." This confession just tumbled out.**

**Fortunately or unfortunately, the big lunkhead didn't recognize it as a statement of love. "You know you and **

**Milly are just insurance workers and I'm just your case," he mumbled.**

**I stepped closer to him and poked his shoulder with my finger. "Vash, if you think after all this time that's all **

**you are to us, you are wrong! We like you, and we care about what happens to you!"**

**He smiled in a bittersweet manner. "Thanks, Meryl. I care about what happens to you, too."**

"**Good," I said, but there was no way I would allow myself to think of that as a declaration of love on his **

**behalf.**

**We turned back to the task of filling in our friend's grave.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter eight: Aching Arms

Milly: Already it was back to sharing a room with Meryl, as though I still were just a girl who'd never

been kissed. Sharing a room, but sleeping in a cold bed.

Meryl sensed my anguish—of course, she knew about it. She reached down beside her bed and picked up a

large, plush, black cat. "I found this in the closet." She tossed it to me. "You want it?"

I held it for a moment, then nodded. "For tonight." I lay down, clutching the stuffed animal tightly,

dampening its fake fur with quiet tears.

**Meryl:** **I couldn't get to sleep. Milly kept on whimpering or sobbing softly. At times, my heart went **

**out to her, at other times, I was just plain annoyed.**

**Finally, sitting up in bed, I asked, "Do you want to talk?"**

"**I don't know!" she wailed. She clammed up for a moment or two, then continued, with speech still **

**broken by sobs, "I must've had the shortest marriage ever!"**

**I thought a moment, then said, "There's many people out there with many different stories. I'm sure **

**someone out there has had shorter." I snapped my fingers. "Oh, yeah! I remember now! This **

**groom had a past with an outlaw gang, and when he and his bride stepped out of the church, they **

**shot him down."**

**She looked at me with incredulous rage. "**_**That's**_** supposed to make me feel better?"**

"**Uh…oops, no! Sorry!" I apologized timidly.**

"**You didn't even like him," she complained.**

"**I liked Mr. Wolfwood," I insisted. "Really I did! I was just mad at him for a little while."**

**She sat up, clutching the stuffed cat fiercely.**

"**I cried, too," I pointed out. "I cried when you first cried, only you didn't see. And I cried when we **

**buried him. And I cried in the church when Vash brought me there to retrieve the cross."**

**Her face softened. She looked confused, her mouth hanging open a little. I got up and sat down **

**beside her. "Remember when he left that time at Demislad?" I asked. "I knew you were upset, and I **

**told you all of life's journeys come with meetings, partings, and reunions."**

"**Reunions," she breathed.**

"**You thought you'd never see him again that time, but you did," I reminded her. "And today you **

**pointed out those verses to Vash about the afterlife. Surely you believe this is only a temporary **

**parting."**

**She smiled wistfully. "And at the next reunion, we won't ever part again!"**

**I put an arm around her, encouraging her by squeezing her.**

"**But how long, Meryl? How long do I have to wait?"**

"**I don't know."**

"**That time in the caravan, I kept hearing his voice. I kept seeing him out of the corner of my eye. **

**But he wasn't there. He had left. I felt so empty. I know I'm gonna feel like that this time, too."**

"**You loved him that early on, huh?"**

"**Meryl, before I met him, I didn't feel like I was missing anything. I was happy. How come now that **

**he's come and gone, I can't be like that again?"**

**I was silent for a few seconds, then said carefully, "When some people come into your life, they add **

**something special to it. You feel that loss regardless of how happy you were before that person **

**came."**

"**Yeah," she said softly. "I suppose I should be glad to have the time I did."**

**I sighed, as if to punctuate her remark.**

**Down in the street below our window, I could hear Vash singing drunkenly. I couldn't understand **

**the words except something about being alone.**

**I got up and opened the window, leaning out. "Vash, you don't have to be alone tonight. Come up **

**here with us. You can sleep on the floor."**

**He hiccuped, then asked, "Can I sleep in your bed?" Before I could agree to sleep on the floor **

**myself, he clarified, "With you?"**

"**Harumph!" I glanced around quickly for something to throw at him, but didn't see anything. **

**Inside, however, my heart was beating faster. He had actually come on to me! I wasn't supposed to **

**like it, but I did.**

**He took another swig from the bottle of wine.**

"**Vash, don't drink that whole thing." He lifted the bottle to his lips again, determined to ignore me. **

"**It's suicide," I warned.**

**He hurriedly lowered the bottle. He was very much against suicide. I saw the liquid swish around in **

**the bottle, and I realized he wasn't as drunk as he seemed to think he was.**

"**Let me have some." It was Milly, leaning up in bed. "I'll never get to sleep unless I have some," she **

**argued.**

**I sighed. "Milly, I do not want to see you start drinking yourself to sleep every night."**

"**Just tonight. Please, Meryl."**

**I looked back out the window. "Vash, come up here—and bring the wine with you," I ordered.**

"**Yes, ma'am."**

**So Milly got to sleep. Vash slept on the floor, between our beds. And I was the one left blinking into **

**the darkness, thinking about some wayward priest I used to know.**

Milly: The next morning, I returned to the room Nicholas and I had shared, sitting on a chair that I had

positioned to face towards the bed. I felt a bit like I had had a one night stand, although it was more truly

being widowed. Yet my biggest regret was that I couldn't have been with him when he died. He died cold

and alone. I could have held him in my arms, and sang or whispered to him. Eased his journey to the other

side. Such a short, sad life he had. I hoped our time together was some consolation to him.

Heloise believed everyone suffers more or less equally in life. I didn't like to think contrary to my beloved

sister, but I didn't know about that. How come I was blessed with a large, loving family, and he grew up

without anyone to go to for a hug or to tell him he was special and that he was loved? It made me sad to

think of it. I could have given him a happy life and made up for the bad times, but he didn't get a chance to

live.

Maybe.._maybe_, I thought, it was because he did suffer so much in life that God had mercy on him and took

him to Paradise early.


End file.
